A Midwinter Nights Nightmare
by Hattie1997
Summary: Hermione has been missing for five years after a failed mission to capture Bellatrix Lestrange. Her friends are all distraught, believing her to be dead, but the newly reformed Draco Malfoy knows differently. He has a feeling that Hermione is not dead but rather imprisoned. He has been searching for five years and that search has finally ended. Oneshot Dramione. Read and review.


**The first part of this chapter I wrote for my English assessment, and I hope you like it. I got a 10 / 10 for it so I think it's good.**

**For anyone who hasn't read my other stories, I just want to clear up any confusion. Hermione and Draco's parts will be in the first person, but anyone else's will be in the third person. Also, italics mean a flashback.**

**Anyway, please read and review. I look forward to hearing what you have to say.**

**A Midwinter Night's Nightmare**

**Harry:**

Harry Potter watched his wife, Ginny, and his son, James, in the garden and allowed himself a small smile. What did he do to deserve such an amazing family? Molly and Arthur Weasley, as well as all their other children, were getting everything ready for the Sunday dinner they were about to have. The only thing that could have made it better would have been if a certain bushy-haired woman had been in attendance.

Even after all this time, even thinking about his long-lost friend brought tears to his eyes. Even though the Ministry dubbed her dead, Harry still had a feeling that she wasn't, but he had no idea where he could find her.

Soon he would have to face the inevitable. She was never coming back.

Ginny saw him watching them and quickly gave her son to her brother, George, before she came inside.

She placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, but she said nothing. They both felt the same way. Whereas Harry, Ron and Hermione had been the Golden Trio, Ginny had been Hermione's best girl-friend, and she had been missing for five years.

"Soon we have to face the inevitable," Ginny murmured, unconsciously echoing his thoughts from earlier, "Harry, she's not coming back."

"I thought that the ache would dull," he whispered back dejectedly, "I thought that I could get over it, but I can't. Hermione's gone, Gin. She's dead. I…" He had to hold back a sob as his wife pulled him close to her body, hugging him and silently comforting him.

Eventually, she whispered, "Everything happens for a reason."

**XxX**

**Ginny:**

Ginny Weasley held her husband close to her and she thought of all the happy times she'd spent with Hermione. They had done everything together. Hermione was the only one Ginny had confided her feelings about Harry to, and her friend had given her good insight.

But she was gone. She had been gone for five years. And chances were she was never coming back.

Ginny held back a sob and clung to Harry. She had only just remembered it, having the last five years slightly jumbled together in her mind through grief, but next week was the five-year anniversary of her disappearance. They were going to Hogwarts to have the memorial service.

It never helped and only left her with a bigger hole in her heart than she had had before. Every time Harry, Ron, or anyone else stood up to give a speech about her greatness, she would hold back her tears and just sigh.

In the five years since her disappearance, Harry and Draco Malfoy had been getting steadily closer. They were both Aurors but Malfoy was gone for days on end searching for something. No-one apart from Harry knew exactly what, and he would never share it with her.

No-one who knew him from school would have guessed it, but Malfoy actually had a soft spot for Hermione. He respected her and only tried to put her down through jealousy. And he never got to tell her, because soon after the war had finished, she was gone.

Her body was never found.

**XxX**

**Ron:**

Ron Weasley stood in the garden of the Burrow, watching his family fuss around getting everything ready, but he felt like he was another person, in another world, watching through their eyes.

Since his best friends disappearance everything had ceased to mean anything. It had been five years but still the heartbreak felt like it was only yesterday. He could still feel the salty tears on his lips as he had heard the news, he could still see his sister collapse and have to be held up by a distraught Ginny, but most of all he could still see Kingsley Shaklebolt's face as he delivered the bad news.

"_I…"_

_Kingsley stood in front of the two seventeen year olds and one sixteen year old. They were in his office at the Ministry of Magic; he had just been named Minister for Magic, and had become very popular even though it had only been a few months since Voldemort's defeat._

_They had never seen Kingsley stutter before, but now his coloured face was almost stark-white. He was obviously the bearer of bad news._

"_I have some very unfortunate news…" He broke off again, wiping his eyes where, to their horror, the three teens could see a tear sparkling._

"_Hermione will not be coming back."_

"_What do you mean?" Ginny demanded, "Surely her mission should have ended by now. Surely she has managed to apprehend Bellatrix Lestrange."_

"_She did," Kingsley breathed, unable to say much more, "But she did not return. We went to the house and it was blown up. There is no way someone could have survived that."_

"_But…" Harry spoke for the first time, "Surely you don't mean…"_

_Ron had to watch in horror as understanding dawned on his best friend and his sister's faces. However, he still refused to believe it._

"_She's not dead," he spat angrily, "Where is she Kingsley? She can't be dead; this is Hermione we're talking about. She's strong…"_

_He broke off at the look of dejection on Kingsley's face. The look that said all he needed to know. The look that set the tears falling._

_Hermione was never coming home._

He was ripped from his thoughts only to feel a salty tear on his lip. He was crying again. He had cried so manytimes since her disappearance.

He refused to say death; that made it so final, so instead he said disappearance.

They would find her, although the chances looked bleak. She had to be found.

**XxX**

**Draco:**

I was visiting my father in Azkaban.

I barely even called him father any more, after what he had put me and my mother through. But nothing could change my DNA, and he was still my father.

He looked so weak, but I knew from experience that looks could be deceiving. Hermione had looked so fragile, but yet she was the cleverest Witch of her age, and she had been so strong.

Actually, that brought me to the reason why I was visiting father. I never visited him if I could help it, but he said that he had information for me. Information that could help me find what I sought the most.

That was impossible; however, as the thing I sought most was probably dead. I sought Hermione Granger, who'd been missing for five years.

He must have meant something else.

"I cannot tell you what is there, because I made I vow that cannot be broken. Go to this address and you will find what you seek," father murmured weakly, pushing a slip of parchment towards me. I didn't bother to read it, figuring that I could do so at a later date, and instead just nodded to him.

No-one would have guessed it had they seen me five years ago, but Draco Malfoy, pureblood, actually cared about Hermione Granger, mudblood. It wasn't quite love, after all, I hadn't seen her for five years and she hated me, but I definitely cared about her more than I should have, and I refused to believe that she was actually dead.

I would find her, even if it killed me.

**XxX**

**Hermione:**

Darkness descended from the world of the living and into my room – if you could call it that. The timbers of the roof creaked and seemed to only be holding up by a thread. It seemed to be swaying around me, making me sway with it. The cell was chilly – even for January. The type of cold that seeped into your clothes and mind, poisoning your thoughts.

I could almost see my breath steaming on the frozen glass as I peered out of my prison cell and into the dank corridors outside. My long, lank, once-glossy greasy hair fell over my hazel-coloured eyes so I pushed it impatiently out of the way. I didn't know why they kept me here. After all, all the other inmates were men and I, the only woman. If you could even call me that anymore.

Small flurries of snow kept dropping on my head from a hole in the roof, making me even colder than necessary. Stray strands of straw fluttered across the splintering floor. My rotting teeth were chattering together, loud enough to wake the dead. My yellowing fingernails were way longer than they were supposed to be and looked like the claws of a bear. My face felt like a block of ice and I couldn't smell anything bar the sweet scent of wet snow and fear. My fingers, as they touched the door, could only feel rough wood under calloused hands.

I turned my eyes to the wall, where I could see a bucket full of urine and a mattress of straw, now too dank to sleep on. There were pictures hanging crooked on the wall. Now they were burnt and blackened by the long-gone fire that had set this place ablaze before we'd been imprisoned here. A chair sat in the corner of the room, the headboard bent and the seat punched in. A little doll lay next to me on the ground. A black face with beetling, sunken black eyes. Burnt hair now cut short. And a little pinafore with a sown-on overcoat. I picked her up, touching the coarse dress and smelling the smell I would never forget, the smell of death. With an inhuman cry I launched the doll at the wall and then turned my eyes away again with a moan of despair.

Through the window to outside small flakes were whirling past with no more sound than a whisper and no more purpose than I had here. Wind howled through otherwise silent passages and spoke to me. Muttering words of pain and death into my ears and making me lose all hope I ever had of leaving this place. Hope that had long since diminished anyway.

My knees, now pulled up to my chest, were white under the blackened timbers of the roof as I lay my head on them and listened to the steady bump of my heart through my clenched fist. The steady bump of a heart that meant business. The steady bump of a heart that said I would do it. A quick act, that's all it would take. A quick act. I would do it. I had to. Or I was stuck in this hell-hole forever. I would do it as soon as morning came. The blissful sun as it rose into a blood-red sky signified food I couldn't eat and meant? Freedom!

I didn't see but rather felt the sun rise into the sky and throw its weak, loving gaze over me. I could hear a commotion down the corridor as one of the guards – probably the blond one with the pansy, blue eyes and the fuzz on his chin from want of a beard – brought food to all the hungry inmates. I heard his steady tread as he came down towards me. But I could also hear another, heavier tread with him. Maybe this was a visitor but I couldn't make out what Blondie – as I had heard him called by other guards – or his friend was saying.

The stopped outside my door. I heard the key going into the lock and being turned, ever so slowly, in a clockwise direction. With a satisfying click the door was pushed forward, knocking me to the ground. I heard cruel laughter as Blondie stepped in and I felt the harsh kick of a boot in my stomach, which made me groan and roll onto my back.

Blondie set the food down near the urine bucket and from the sloshing around he had displaced the bucket which now lay on its side with urine all over my food, if you could call it that, it was more like gruel. Laughing again Blondie turned to go but I was already there with blackened fingers around his throat. I could hear the frozen gargling coming from my prey as I limited, then cut off, the flow of air to his lungs. All too soon the gargling noises stopped and my prey stopped twitching. Disgusted I threw him to the ground.

I raised my eyes to his companion, baring my teeth in an inhumane gesture. His eyes were the most astonishing shade of grey I had ever seen. They were steel cold but curious. His hair was platinum blond and appeared to be glowing in this place where not even the rats came. I recognised him. I wasn't sure how, or even if it was possible, but I recognised him.

He took a slow step towards me and I shied away from him, my eyes going to the door of my cell and I looked for a way out. Platinum took another step forward and this time I didn't move; content to just watch him warily.

"Merlin," he breathed after the longest time, "What have they done to you?"

I opened my mouth to speak but my voice, rusty from misuse, refused to work.

He moved even closer, gently reaching out to touch my face, his grey eyes uncharacteristically soft. I jerked away from him again, still not saying anything.

"Granger…Hermione, I need you to let me check you over."

I was surprised that he knew my name when, after all this time, I had almost forgotten it. I allowed him to gently manoeuvre me so that my back was to him. I heard his heavy intake of breath as he took in my ruined back, red with dried blood.

Without another word he took some salve out of his bag and began to apply it to my back.

I opened my mouth again, this time managing to form words. "Who are you?"

He gasped again and whirled me to face him, causing me to wince as he touched my tender back.

"You really don't recognise me?"

"No," I rasped, utterly confused. Should I have known him?

Instead of replying, he said, "Everyone thinks you're dead. They sent a team of Aurors out when you first went missing but they had to stop after two years. For the last three years they've assumed you're dead. No-one's forgotten you and every year they have a memorial service in memory of you at Hogwarts."

That last word, _Hogwarts, _filled my mind and brought a sharp memory to the forefront of my mind…

_Voldemort was still alive. Harry, Ron and I were in Malfoy Manor. They had been taken to the dungeons below while Bellatrix Lestrange tortured me. _

_The pain was unbelievable. It cut into me, making me unable to hold my scream in. I could hear her laughing manically while the Malfoy's stood by silently, all of their eyes averted._

_Finally Lucius Malfoy spoke, "We should send her somewhere they will never think to look. Let them believe she is dead."_

_Bellatrix agreed and I was hauled up, half-conscious, before Bellatrix murmured a spell and the world went black. The last thing I saw was a pair of startling grey eyes._

I was thrown from the memory as my companion began to speak again. I raised my eyes to his, unable to keep the shock from my expression.

"Malfoy?"

He winced slightly and nodded, turning me back around and beginning to apply some sort of salve to my back.

"What happened to Voldemort? And you?" I asked after a long pause.

"He was killed by Harry. I was let off from going to prison so long as I re-took my seventh year at Hogwarts. Mother spent a year in Azkaban, but my father died there last year."

"I'm sorry," I murmured, my back still to him. I quickly got over my shock of Malfoy calling Harry, Harry.

"Don't be," he snapped and his previously soft voice had hardened sharply. I nodded mutely, unsure of what to say.

"As soon as I left school, I began to search for you. I didn't believe that you were dead, and Harry got me out of going to Azkaban so I owed him. I've spend four years – the first year of your disappearance was spent at school – searching for you. Aunt Bella was dead and she was the only one I knew who knew where you would be. Just before his death, father mentioned that I would find what I was looking for here. I had no idea that he meant you, but he clearly did."

"Thank you," I whispered, turning to face him again, "For everything."

He nodded but made no other sign that he had heard me. Instead, he said, "You know I said that every year there is a memorial service at Hogwarts?" I nodded so he continued, "Well, that service is in a week's time. I was thinking of cleaning you up and stuff before taking you there with me. How does that sound?"

"You've found me," I murmured instead of replying, "Why are you helping me?"

"Because I want to," he replied shortly.

**XxX**

Malfoy's house was nicer than I expected it to be. It was large but not massive like the Manor. I didn't know what I'd do if he took me there. There were six bedrooms and the same amount of bathrooms. There was a kitchen, which he assured me he never went in, and his house elves always cooked the meals. I didn't mention my aversion to house elf slavery, having been too tired to do much of anything.

As soon as he showed me to a room I was asleep within seconds. It was the first peaceful sleep I had had in years – five years to be exact. I gasped, that made me twenty-two years old because I'd been seventeen when I'd disappeared. I had missed the whole of the end of the war and not even realised it. Not to mention that all my friends believed me to be dead.

"Excuse me miss," said a voice at my elbow and I almost screamed from the shock. I turned my eyes down to the small house elf, noticing with delight the odd assortment of clothes it was wearing. He had a misshapen hat that I recognised although I had no idea why. He was also wearing a shirt that came down to his knees; and extremely tall socks with a snitch on them.

"Miss, Dobby is here to…" he began but I interrupted.

"Dobby?"

"Yes, miss, that is my name."

"Dobby, it's me. It's Hermione."

"Miss Hermione," Dobby breathed, his eyes wide, "That is impossible."

I felt a small spark of compassion for this tiny creature, who was staring at me with happiness. I was beginning to feel awkward with the attention when Dobby hurriedly shook himself from his stupor and gave me the once-over.

"Well, miss, you is a mess. Dobby will run miss a bath and then leave miss to bathe."

Before the little house elf could leave, I quickly called him back.

"Would you mind not telling anyone that I am alive just yet?"

"Of course miss."

"Thank you."

With those final words, Dobby left to run my bath and I was left with my thoughts.

Why was Malfoy, of all people, helping me? And he seemed different from the Malfoy I remembered at school. The one who would put me down at any chance he got. The Malfoy that had also, I realised, saved my life and my sanity.

What was I going to do?

**XxX**

"Miss, Dobby is finished with your bath," squeaked a small voice and Dobby scurried into the room, bustling around to find me some other clothes to wear.

Not even bothering if I could be seen, I stripped off where I was and hurried to the bathroom where I proceeded to wipe five years' worth of grime and muck off my body.

I was filthy, my fingernails were cracked and bloody, and I looked a right state.

After shampooing my hair twice, and conditioning it once, I deemed myself half-way decent and, whilst wrapping a towel around my body, I made my way back into the bedroom, where clothes I hadn't seen since my disappearance sat innocently on the bed.

A turquoise vest top with white jeans, white flip-flops and a beautiful hairpiece that had been my mother's before her death. I quickly changed but there was no mirror in the room that I could use to clip the hairpiece in place.

As I was about to make my way back into the bathroom, there was a quiet knock on the door. It seemed timid but there was only one person in this house who would be knocking on my door, and that was Malfoy. He was by no means timid.

"Come in," I said as loudly as I dared, frightened by loud noises after the silence of my cell.

The doorknob slowly turned and Malfoy entered, his eyes critically moving down from my sallow face to my bony feet, and back up again. Instead of seeing mirth in his eyes, I only saw a great sadness.

I turned from him and attempted to put the hairpiece in again, but failed.

Suddenly I felt a sharp movement behind me, and whirled around, eyes wide and frightened like a dear in the headlamps. Malfoy was so close to me that I could see the flecks of silver in his grey eyes, but instead of comforting me, I terrified me.

He reached out to touch my hand but I shied away, attempting to put the bed between us. He immediately retracted his hand and watched me in silence, thinking of his next move.

**XxX**

**Draco:**

I could see why she would be scared after all that she had been through in the last five years, but it still hurt that she felt the need to shy away from me. I tried not to let it get to me, but I couldn't get the feeling that I scared her from my mind.

In truth, even after her shower, she still looked awful. Her hair had gone back to being glossy and flecked with highlights in reds and oranges. That was the only good thing about her. Her face was now sallow and seemed to be lined with age, and she was impossibly thin. They had been starving her in that place; I had never seen anyone so skinny. The clothes that had fit her before now hung off her skinny frame. The worst thing of her appearance, however, was her eyes. Whereas they used to be laughing and shining with tiny flecks of gold riddled throughout, now they were dull, lifeless and terrified.

I moved slowly over to the bed in order not to frighten her any more than I already had. In truth, she frightened me a bit. She had killed her captor using her bare hands and had looked to be totally insane. Now she seemed to be only a shadow of the fiery girl I once knew.

I took the hairpin from where she'd dropped it and took one step towards her, stopping as she looked like she wanted to bolt.

"Do you want me to put this in?" I asked, careful to keep my voice calm and my stance oozing safety.

After a long pause, she nodded mutely, moving me stand in front of me. She stiffened as I ran my fingers through her hair before allowing me to put it in.

It broke my heart to see the once-fiery Gryffindor so broken.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, pushing that thought to the back of my mind. She nodded, allowing me to go first from her room and then following me into the kitchen.

"Dobby," I requested.

In truth, the only reason I was nice to house elves was because of the girl standing behind me. I had thought she was crazy when she had started her S.P.E.W nonsense, but after her disappearance, I asked Dobby to come back to work for me and he got 10 galleons a day as well as Saturdays off.

With a pop Dobby apparated into view, flashing a dazzling smile at Hermione, which she responded with a timid one.

"What can Dobby do for Master and Miss?"

"Would you make us some pasta and bread please?" I murmured, knowing that this was her favourite from her Hogwarts days, and also knowing that anything was better than the gruel they had been feeding her.

Dobby nodded once, sharply, and left, reappearing barely five minutes later with the requested food.

Hermione sat fearfully at the table, staring at the food in front of her as though it would disappear if she turned away. I felt the sight remarkably humorous but knew better than to laugh at her in her delicate state.

"Eat," I murmured, helping myself to some bread as I watched her. Even though she had been a prisoner for five years, she still ate carefully. It was much better than watching her pig of a best friend, Ron, spurt his food everywhere.

"Why are you doing this," she asked eventually, as Dobby cleared her plate. It was the first thing she had said to me since we'd been in her cell and, not having expected it, I jumped sharply, causing her to flinch away as though I was going to hit her.

Instead of answering her question, I moved so that I was right next to her and I kneeled on the ground, making her turn to face me.

"Hermione, I will never hit you. You are free of that place and if I have my way, I will never let you out of my sight again. I will never let anyone hurt you ever again.

She stated at me in shocked silence for the longest time before finally speaking in a broken whisper. "Thank you. I would still be there if it wasn't for you. Thank you, Draco."

Then, to my utmost surprise, she hugged me. It was a weak hug, but a hug nonetheless and it proved that she could get better. Where she had been flinching away from me earlier, now she was hugging me.

Without another word, I took her hand and led her upstairs, into the room she had been in earlier.

"Is it okay if I check your wounds?" I murmured, not sure if she would like that.

Hermione just nodded and lay down on the bed with her back towards me. I used my wand to sever her top in a straight line down her back and pulled it apart to reveal the crusting scabs. With another few days of treatment, they would be completely healed and she could begin the journey to recovery.

I would help her with that.

**XxX**

**Hermione:**

Malfoy…Draco began to apply the same salve he had back in my cell onto my back and I allowed to cool feeling to wash over me like the sea.

He didn't say anything, neither of us did, but his actions spoke louder than words. He cared about me. Draco Malfoy cared about me, Hermione Granger. This was a story for the Prophet.

Once he was done, he repaired my top and I rolled onto my back to face him.

His blond hair fell into his eyes, which were regarding me intensely, and his hands were on either side of my body.

Where just moments ago I would have felt trapped by the close proximity, now I just felt safe. I was already healing.

He laid a gentle kiss upon my forehead before standing up to leave, but my thin hand caught his as I said in a pitifully frail voice, "Please stay."

He conjured a chair and made to sit in it but I shook my head, snuggling under the covers and pulling them back to that he could join me.

What I needed most in the world at that moment was human contact and Draco provided that.

After a slight hesitation, he moved under covers and I put my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat steadily. He moved his arms around me, encircling my small body in his large embrace.

I felt safe.

**XxX**

**Draco:**

I felt the sun streaming through the windows but also felt a familiar body beside me. I hadn't slept with anyone last night, had I? Then it all came rushing back.

Hermione!

I had found Hermione, and she was sleeping next to me.

I turned to regard her sleeping form, a small frown marring her petit face and I gently rubbed my fingers along her forehead to get rid of it. She sighed delicately, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth and I felt myself smiling also.

It definitely hadn't been before, but now I knew for certain. Even though I'd only been reunited with her for less than a day, I was in love with her.

Obviously, she would never feel the same way. How could she? That still didn't keep me from hoping, and I dropped off to sleep again with thoughts of Hermione Granger in my mind.

**XxX**

**Hermione:**

I awoke to the sound of heavy breathing from my companion and snuggled more into his warmth.

I hadn't hated him for a long time prior to my disappearance, after having seen his tortured face as I was being tortured by his crazy aunt. That didn't mean I liked him, but I definitely felt something other than dislike after all the kindness he had shown me in the last day.

I slowly moved my hand down his face and smiled softly at the small pout of his lips. He had been true to his word and stayed with me last night even after I had flinched away from him earlier.

He truly was something different.

I gently propped myself up on my elbow and watched him. My eyes were instantly drawn to his mouth as I felt myself beginning to lean towards him.

"Like what you see?" commented a smirking voice that sounded eerily like Blondie's, my captors. With a small shriek, I jerked away from him, falling off the bed and onto the hard floor. Instantly he was by my side but I flinched away from him, scared that he would hit me.

Instead, he pulled me to him, nestling me into the crook of his shoulder and murmured into my ear.

**XxX**

**Draco:**

I couldn't believe how stupid I'd been.

If it had been anyone else, or even Hermione in her own mind, it would have been fine, but this was a recently-beaten Hermione, a weak Hermione, a fragile Hermione, and I had scared her so much that she would probably never speak to me again.

I was immediately by her side, wanting to check that she was alright, but she flinched from my touch, her eyes closing as she waited for a blow that would never come.

Ignoring her stiffness, I quickly enveloped her in a hug, murmuring that everything would be okay. I could've kicked myself. Everything that I had been working for in the last day had been ruined because of one careless mistake.

"Draco," her voice was soft as she gently pulled herself away, "Are you crying?"

It was only then that I realised I was, in fact, crying; the salty tears falling down my cheeks. Hermione moved them away with her finger and lightly kissed my forehead, murmuring, "Why?"

"I thought I'd hurt you," I replied honestly, watching carefully for her reaction. She seemed slightly surprise but other than that she made no noise to say that she'd heard me.

That was, until I saw where her eyes were. They were positioned on my mouth as she leaned forward and placed the lightest of kisses there.

My eyes widened in surprise as she moved away again, a red blush tainting her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she whispered but I wasn't going to let her take it back now, and swiftly moved my lips to hers, pushing her onto the floor and leaning over her, asking her permission to continue. When she made no protest, I kissed her again, feeling my passion growing from the depths of my toes and into my heart before reaching my mouth.

"I love you," I murmured, not even realising I'd said it until I felt her still beneath me.

**XxX**

**Hermione:**

Did he actually say those words or did I imagine them? Everyone always says that there is a thin line between love and hatred, and what I felt for him definitely wasn't hatred. What could it be if not that?

Love?

I finally realised what my heart had been trying to tell me all these years, locked away in a prison cell somewhere. I didn't hate Draco Malfoy because I was in love with him.

My eyes flew open and I stared into his grey ones as he waited for me to speak, and speak I did, repeating the words he had said to me moments before.

"I love you."

**XxX**

**One week later**

**At Hogwarts**

**Harry:**

"Hey," Harry murmured, taking the seat in between his wife and best friend at the round table at the front of the hall, reserved for Hermione's previous classmates. The Weasley's were at the table to their right and everyone else were at other tables dotted around at random intervals. At the front of the hall was a vase of snowdrops, Hermione favourite flower, to the side of a large portrait of their friend, the girl they would miss until they died.

He felt to one side and took Ginny's hand in his own while Ron took his other one in his. This meant nothing other than the friendship of a shared loss.

At their table was Neville, Seamus, Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Luna, Ron, Ginny, me and, surprisingly, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. They always turned up but the former Gryffindors were never sure whether it was just to support Draco, who was supposed to take the one vacant chair, or whether it was because they actually missed Hermione. They guessed the former; however, you could never tell with those former Slytherins. Draco had actually turned out to be decent.

"Where's Draco?" Pansy asked, her dull, brown eyes scanning the hall.

Everyone else shrugged while Harry murmured, "He said that he had a surprise for us, one that would make us happy. The only thing I can think that would make me truly happy was if Hermione was still alive."

The occupants at the table murmured their agreements as Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, rose to make her speech. Her eyes scanned the hall briefly before stopping at Draco's seat.

"Where is Mr Malfoy?"

Draco had never missed a memorial service, and even seemed to take Hermione's disappearance worse than her closest friends, which was nigh on impossible.

"I'm here," said a sharp but strangely gleeful voice from the door to the Great Hall, which had been opened to admit the youngest Malfoy. Only he wasn't alone.

At his side walked a petite, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl of about twenty-two, the same age as Harry. Even if he hadn't been missing her for five years, he would have known who it was, and that thought alone shocked him into silence.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ginny snarled, turning her attention to the two newest arrivals. "You think you can just waltz in here with a Hermione look-a-like. It's despicable."

"It's not…" Draco began but Hermione interrupted.

"I'm not a look-a-like, Gin."

Ginny's eyes widened as she took in the slim girl; she was even wearing Hermione's clothes, and no-one but Hermione called Ginny, Gin.

"What shape does your patronus take?" she demanded, feeling tears prick at her eyes.

"An Otter, why?" Hermione responded without taking a breath and Ginny let out a gasp of surprise. It really was Hermione. She was alive.

**XxX**

**Hermione:**

We entered the Great Hall to have everyone stare at us. At first it was obvious that none of them believed that I was Hermione, but after my answer to her question, Gin ran to me.

I stiffen at the contact, still not comfortable around any human apart from Draco, having been locked up for so long. I soon relaxed into the embrace and hugged her back as everyone else stood.

Draco, however, prevented them from bombarding me all at once with a few, well-chosen words. "She has had a rough five years; she does not fully trust people."

And I took his hand in mine, rose up on tip-toes, and kissed his lips, thankful for all he'd done for me.

He had saved me not only from the prison, but from myself.

**Thanks for reading, I hope you like it.**

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